Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bosnia Herzegovina and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Kings Of Tomorrow to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Isaac Hayes,
Steve Hackett,
The Pretty Things,
Ohio Players,
The Cramps,
Second Layer,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Sonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick May,
Nirvana,
Rakim,
One Last Wish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bluetip,
Letta Mbulu,
Ornette Coleman,
Radio Birdman,
A Certain Ratio,
The Birthday Party,
Black Sheep,
ABC,
Public Enemy,
Maleditus Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
Deepchord,
The Remains,
Scion,
Jandek,
Bootsy Collins,
Theoretical Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Country Teasers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jacques Brel,
Accadde A,
Andrew Hill,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marmalade,
Iggy Pop,
Whodini,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scrapy,
Faraquet,
Alton Ellis,
Mad Mike,
The Young Rascals,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Flag,
the Germs,
The Saints,
Brand Nubian,
Pere Ubu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Skriet,
Nils Olav,
The Raincoats,
Gabor Szabo,
Zapp,
Wings,
John Foxx,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.